


Empty Nights

by Lapsang



Category: Free!
Genre: Fluff, Late Nights, M/M, musings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 06:14:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4337009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lapsang/pseuds/Lapsang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's late at night, or early in the morning, depending on your point of view, and Haruka's still awake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Empty Nights

**Author's Note:**

> During the holidays, I stay up way too late for no reason at all; mostly for lack of anything better to do. I've been reading a lot of MakoHaru lately, just because it's a pairing I find comforting, mostly. This is me projecting a bit and hashing stuff out a little, but also, it's Haru and Mako. This was written late at night and as such may be a bit unpolished, but hey, I'm sticking it up anyway.

It was 1:37am, and he was awake. He was awake, sitting on the floor at his low table, laptop in front of him, a half dozen tabs of nothing in particular open, an album he’d stumbled onto at random halfway through playing. It was way too late and he should sleep, but he had nothing to do tomorrow, and he kind of didn’t want to turn in just yet. 

He got like this, sometimes; restless. Alone. The empty night was an invisible pressure. Give up and go to bed and wake up in the morning, away from this time. But somehow, he didn’t feel like he’d get to sleep. It was a stubborn way of persisting against common sense, in the early morning where he shouldn’t exist. 

The summer vacation stretched out before him, feeling like an empty promise. At least he could swim - they’d got a training schedule to stick to, though it was mostly up to them to follow through with it, aside from group practice a couple of times a week. Given that his friends were but a stone’s throw away, and he could go see them any time, it didn’t make sense for him to feel so cut off. But here in the early morning, there was nobody else stupid enough to be up this late. 

Generally, he was absolutely fine with his own company; living alone, he had to be. And he was. He liked the quiet, and being able to do things his own way, and sit in the tub for as long as he wanted, and cook mackerel for as many nights in a row as he wanted. But sometimes, it was lonely. That was just a fact. Normally, he didn’t have to think about this stuff. He’d carry out his routine, cooking dinner, doing chores, maybe sitting with a book or his sketchpad for a while before going to sleep to rinse and repeat. But occasionally, he stayed up too late doing nothing at all, and the empty feeling would bite, and he’d sit, torn between wanting to stop feeling like this and not wanting to shut off and face a dark room. 

Eventually, sense had to win out. He closed the laptop, got up, dumped his half-full mug of cold tea in the sink, turned out the lights downstairs, and headed up to brush his teeth.

‘What would it be like,’ he mused, squeezing a pea of toothpaste onto his toothbrush and bringing it up to his mouth, ‘to not live alone.’ He brushed his teeth, turning over the thought in his head.

‘...This early in the morning, it’d probably feel much the same.’

He spat into the sink and rinsed it away, watching the water swirl. He flushed out his mouth and splashed some on his face, towelling it off roughly. Go to bed, idiot.

But as he was crossing the landing, something caught his eye; another upstairs light still on, just like his. It was Makoto’s bedroom light - he could just about see it from here. Fancy that. Were they together in feeling alone? Makoto didn’t really seem like he’d suffer from these fits of night-time melancholy like he did. Maybe he got wrapped up in some book, maybe he fell asleep with the lights on.

...It was summer, and if he could, he wanted to be with someone, and Makoto was always there.

“Lights on”, he texted, knowing (hoping?) Makoto would get what he meant. He waited, trying not to hold his breath.

Buzz, buzz.

“You too? ^^;” was the reply.

“Steps” he shot back, shrugging on a light jumper and stuffing his feet into some shoes, already out the door by the time it’d sent.

Makoto took a little longer, probably at pains to avoid disturbing his family, but he appeared at their usual morning meeting spot without fuss. He smiled when he saw Haru, the same gentle smile he always wore, never mind that it was the dead of night.

“The stars are pretty tonight, huh, Haru-chan?” He said softly by way of greeting. Haru shot him the look which said ‘drop the -chan’ plain as day, and Makoto only chuckled softly and gestured with his head in a way that said ‘let’s get out of here so we don’t wake anyone up talking’. He was always so considerate.

They ended up at the seafront, sufficiently clear of houses that they could talk fairly normally. They sat on the wall by the beach, watching the waves for a while, just sitting in silence. Haru was the one to break it - he’d called Makoto out, after all.

“I didn’t think you did this,” he said, talking in somewhat hushed tones still. The night seemed to demand that kind of respect. Makoto glanced sideways at him.

“Coming out at this hour, or staying up this late in the first place?” he queried, similarly quiet.

“Staying up. Why?”

“Well…” Makoto looked away, back out at the ocean, and sighed slightly, mulling it over. “Sometimes I have a hard time getting to sleep. Just too awake, turning over things, so I end up staying up trying to tire myself out. I get there eventually, but it takes a while… Coming out here is nice, though. I bet I’ll sleep well after this.” He looked back at Haru, smiling again at his friend. “You, Haru?”

“Stubbornness.” He pauses, then, “The night feels empty. It’s lonely. I don’t want to face another empty day.” They’re short statements, but he feels somehow like he’s said too much. He’s not looking, but he can feel Makoto mulling it over next to him.

“...It’s all the same, huh?” Makoto says eventually, slowly. “Routine gets to even you, Haru.” It’s phrased like a question, but it’s more of a statement. Haru just kind of nods. They sit for a bit longer.

“At least this is new,” Makoto says, seeming like a sudden break in the quiet, almost causing Haru to jump. “For all we see each other, we don’t tend to do this so often. Just sitting here; it’s nice.” Makoto leans back, lies flat on his back, legs still dangling over the edge, looking up at the stars. Haru stares for a bit, then lies down next to him.

“I don’t know stars,” Haru says, looking out at the pinpricked sky. 

“Me either,” admits Makoto.

Haru moves his hand over slightly, so it was just touching Makoto’s, lying there next to each other. It feels natural. His skin is warm.

Makoto moves his hand, places it on top, laces their fingers together. He turns his head, smiles at Haru once more, but it’s more than before, somehow. Makoto’s always genuine, but he’s especially so now, radiating a kind of warm, fulfilled contentment like never before. Haru finds himself smiling back; not wide like Makoto, but his own smile, smaller but no less joyful.

They don’t say much more after that. They just lie there, staring up, out into space, feeling small but together like never before. After a while, they get up, go back to their beds, and sleep, minds blissfully blank.

The next day, and the days after that, aren’t quite the same as before.

**Author's Note:**

> NB: now I'm a little more awake, haha, I've gone through and done a light edit, taken out some typos, ordinary stuff.
> 
> Man, the MakoHaru fandom is a lot more active than I gave it credit for; three comments just since last night! Cripes. Thank you!!


End file.
